The Last Time I Saw Sebastian Monroe
by IceonFire7
Summary: One shot that takes place after the comic, so there is a MCD warning involved here. Actually, a whole bunch really, but if you've read any of the comic, you'll already know that. The one thing it is...is Charloe.


**So, I finally read the comic and I liked it more than I ever suspected I would. Bass is NOT dead. And neither is Charlie. That gives us Charloe people a wonderful window of opportunity. I was, however, reading some comments from some tweeters and came across a response that said "That was the last day I ever saw Sebastian Monroe. There you go Charloe fans." My initial thought was to slap back some mad tweet. Then I decided fixing it was better. Here is my Charloe answer to that...**

 **I don't own Revolution, but Jesus, I really miss them now.**

* * *

 _That was the last day I saw Sebastian Monroe..._

Charlie washed up the rest of the dinner dishes in the little stream running past her back yard. The light was dying out as the sun sank below the horizon. It had been four days since they'd put Miles Matheson in the ground, and she was still struggling with the fact that he was gone. That anyone who knew her from the days before the Patriots, before the battle with the Nano, had passed on. And even though she still had family, it felt as if she'd been left alone all over again.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the air, a sense of someone close by, that raised all her long dormant fighting hackles. There were only two men, two warriors, who she'd ever felt that with. One was Miles. And the other...

"Charlie."

Her head shot up as she gasped, her breath catching in her throat. Tears flooded her eyes, and she was afraid to turn around, afraid that it was all in her head, that she wouldn't really see him standing there behind her. Getting to her feet, she forced herself to turn.

And found herself staring at Sebastian Monroe. "Bass?"

He took one look at her and knew the truth. "I'm too late, aren't I? He's gone."

She nodded. How could he have known? Although, she shouldn't have been surprised, considering the sixth sense those two always had with one another. "It's been a few days. How did you..."

"I felt it. I felt...like he needed me." He looked away for a moment. When he turned back to her, his eyes were glistening. "Should have known I'd be too late. I failed him again."

"No, you didn't. He understood, Bass. He always understood."

"We were the same age, Charlie. What the hell happened?"

"Cancer. That's what the local doctor surmised. There was nothing we could do with no pre-Blackout medicine, other than make him comfortable." Her eyes locked on his. "It's good to see you, Bass."

They stared at each other. "Since when do you call me Bass?"

"Oh, I'd nearly forgotten I used to call you Monroe." She laughed a bit through her tears. "That is a long story to explain."

He shrugged. "I've got time."

They were just standing there, in her backyard, and she knew she should do something. Invite him in, ask him to sit down. But she started speaking without either making a move. "He met someone, after you left, a few years after Mom. Her name's Sarah. She's really wonderful. I think you'd like her."

"That'd be different." He chuckled, then stopped himself, his face growing somber again as he gazed at her. "I'm sorry, Charlie, I didn't mean..."

"It's OK. I've dealt with that. Long time ago, actually." She motioned towards the house next door. "It's this...that I'm having a hard time dealing with. Sarah's struggling with it and I...I'm not..."

He crossed the yard in a flash, still as agile as she remembered. By the time he was in front of her, his hand on her cheek, all the years just melted away. But none of the bad from the past flooded her memory, only the good. Fighting side by side, the little flashes of friendship they'd had. And God he was still as handsome as ever; something she'd always known, but refused to admit in her youth. Sebastian Monroe had aged, but he was still a beautiful man.

"You're being the strong one, aren't you?" he asked, eyes boring into hers. Jesus, she had missed that. The way their eyes used to lock and entire conversations would transpire. "You haven't grieved yourself."

Those words, combined with the tender look in his eyes, brought every emotion she was burying deep inside to the surface. She was being strong, because she was the strong one. Because **she** was the one who had dealt with pain and suffering and death, not what remained of her family. Sarah was barely keeping it together, and she was only holding on for her son. When they were alone, Miles's widow wept in Charlie's arms, while she held back her own tears to keep from upsetting her stepmother even further.

But here, with Bass so close, looking as strong-willed as he'd always been, she lost it. Burrowing into his arms, she wept for her uncle, her father, for the man she'd loved so very much. For the man who had become her world after she'd lost everyone all over again. As she sobbed, Bass lowered them both to the ground, his arms firmly around her, never letting go. She could feel his tears running into her hair, but he never let go.

After what seemed an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, her cries subsided. And she became aware of Bass's arms around her. But while in the past she might have been disturbed to have him so close, now she welcomed the last remaining part of her old life. "He missed you, you know. Right up until the end. But he didn't blame you for leaving."

"After Connor, I..." Bass sighed. "I had to get away, Charlie. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I didn't make it back in time to see him again."

"He didn't die alone, Bass. He was surrounded by his family. Me, Sarah, Sebastian..."

Bass's eyes connected with hers, filled with confusion. "What?"

"His son, Sebastian Matheson." A small whimper came from Bass's throat. "He never forgot about you. Never. It was the only way he could honor all you'd done for us. He said that you changed, after you came back to Willoughby to help us stop the Patriots use the mustard gas. That something had happened and you'd changed. I wasn't sure I believed it at the time. But over the years, I realized he was right. And in the end, he wanted his son to have your name."

Now it was Bass's turn to collapse. She held him tightly, face buried in his hair as he mourned the passing of his brother. Whispering words of comfort to him, she found herself running through her life, her past. How in the world had it ever come to be that she and Sebastian Monroe could find solace in one another? There was a time she'd wanted him dead. But she'd lost that aggression towards him just as she'd lost her youth. She would be forty in less than two years. There was no time left for holding onto grudges.

Finally, he lifted his head, his blue eyes shimmering in what was left of the evening sun. And she was struck again by how good-looking he still was. With his hard way of living, it surprised her he wasn't worn and haggard. Oh, he still had those little creases around his eyes, and they'd gotten a little deeper with age, but other than that, he didn't look nearly as old as he was. They stared at each other for a few more moments, until the air around them got too heavy.

"Do you want to meet him?" she asked.

Bass nodded. "I would like that."

Standing, she reached a hand down to him to help him up. Not that he needed it, really. He was still rather spry. "Don't look so surprised, Charlie. Sixty-one wasn't all that old once upon a time."

"I'm not surprised," she said with a smile. "Never figured you'd let yourself grow old without a fight."

He grinned back, and she was happy to see that megawatt smile still existed. The guy must have taken excellent care of his teeth, for he still had all of them. Though she did remember him scrubbing or brushing them back on the road, even with his finger if that was all he had. "You know me. I love to fight."

Holding his hand, she scooped up the rest of her dishes, setting them on a table on the back porch and leading Bass to the house next door. She didn't knock, just opened the backdoor, calling out for her stepmother as she entered. "Sarah, it's me."

Sarah came around the corner and stopped, her bloodshot eyes taking in the man at Charlie's side. The woman had obviously been crying, just as he assumed she had since Miles's death. "You're..."

"Sebastian Monroe," he said, not moving from Charlie's side. He was struck by how much the woman did not resemble Rachel. Somehow, he'd expected she would. But with her dark hair and big brown eyes, this woman looked far more like Emma or Nora. The woman smiled at him, something else he hadn't expected.

"Welcome, Bass." His heart pounded in his chest. He'd come back here, almost instinctively knowing that his brother was gone, expecting to find hostility or animosity from Charlie. Instead, he'd found a sympathetic older woman in place of the angry young girl he'd last seen. And he was being accepted by Miles's family without a resentful word being tossed his way.

"Is B.J. upstairs?"

"Yeah, he's getting ready for bed." Sarah smiled, but it was a watery one. "He was wondering if you were going to come up and say good night."

"Do you mind if Bass tags along?" Charlie asked.

"No, of course not."

Charlie led him past the darkened living room and up the stairs, candles on tables at both the top and bottom lighting the way. "B.J.?"

"Bass Junior. It's what we all call him. Miles's idea."

He cleared his throat, the emotions threatening again. "Charlie, she knows who I am."

"Of course she does," Charlie replied. "She's heard the stories and there are pictures."

"Pictures?"

"Sure, we're back in Sylvania Estates." She tugged him down the hall. It didn't escape his attention that she hadn't let go of his hand since she'd first grabbed it. Which was fine with him; he didn't really want to lose contact with her either. "We had some pictures my father...Ben...had brought along when we first left Chicago. There were some of you and Miles in there. They're on the mantle in the living room."

"They are?"

She turned to him then, her eyes soft in the glow of the candles. "He'd forgiven it all, Bass. B.J. knows the stories, what happened between the two of you, the Republic. Miles didn't want to lie to his son about any of it. But he left the anger out of it. All B.J. knows is that you and Miles were brothers. And you fought sometimes, most family does. I call you Bass because of him. Because that's all he knows you as. Our father's best friend."

She pressed a hand to his face, her fingers tickling the hair he still had there. He'd never been able to get rid of the beard that had become so much a part of him; now there was a smattering of silver twisting through it. With one hand on his cheek and the other still snuggly tucked into his hand, he realized she'd never touched him like this before. It was all so overwhelming. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank Miles. He did a great job with him. He was a hell of a father. Come and meet your namesake." She pulled away and pushed open the door to B.J.'s room. "Hey, kiddo."

"Charlie!" A kid of about twelve looked up at her from his bed, his enthusiastic brown eyes quickly shooting from his sister to the stranger in the room. Bass faltered, his knees about to buckle, but a squeeze from Charlie's hand kept him grounded and upright. Sebastian Matheson was a dead ringer for his father at the same age. Images and memories of running and playing with Miles when they were just kids assaulted Bass.

The two just stared at one another, until Charlie introduced them. "B.J., this is Bass. Dad's friend...Dad's brother."

Bass swallowed. "Hi."

The kid became a little subconscious and a little shy. "We have pictures of you."

"Yeah..." Bass glanced away, getting a hold on his emotions before looking back at the boy again. "Your dad and I, we go way back. We knew each other for a long time."

"He died." Straight and to the point. Just like Miles.

Charlie gave another squeeze to his hand. "I know. I'm sorry I missed him."

B.J. seemed to have some sort of internal conversation; it was the same thing he'd seen Miles do all of their lives. He was struck again by how much he missed his brother. "Are you leaving tonight?"

Bass shook his head. "No."

"Well, I hear all the old war stories from Charlie. And Dad told me some of the things you guys got into when you were my age." Tears lined B.J.'s big brown eyes. "But Charlie doesn't know about my dad before the Blackout. Could you tell me more, about when you were teenagers and in the Marines?"

"Yeah," Bass said, his voice throaty and raw. "I could do that."

B.J. smiled, the same lopsided, sarcastic grin of his father. Charlie pulled away, holding back the covers so the boy could slide into bed. "Time to go to sleep. I'm putting this candle over here across the room so you can't just light it and read late into the night."

"Jeez, Charlie," B.J. said, rolling his eyes. Yeah, that move the kid had definitely picked up from his older sister. Bass watched the two of them interact; there was obviously a lot of love between the children of Miles Matheson.

"Well, if you need it in the middle of the night, it's on the dresser. But you...get to bed."

"Where is Bass going to stay?" And just like that, he was a member of the Matheson family all over again.

Charlie grabbed Bass's hand, her fingers slipping between his. "We'll find a place for him. See you in the morning, kiddo."

They made their way back downstairs, Charlie stopping in the kitchen to check on her stepmother. "Sarah, are you OK?"

Sarah nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. "Yeah, I am."

"Do you need me to stay here with you tonight?"

The dark-haired woman glanced from Charlie to Bass, her eyes resting on their still entwined hands for a moment. "No. I've been requiring a lot of you, Charlie. I haven't coped very well. But I haven't really allowed you **your** time to cope with it. And for that I'm so sorry."

Bass looked at Charlie, at the tears filling her eyes. "I don't mind."

"I know. You've been so wonderful with both of us. I couldn't ask for a better stepdaughter...or a better friend. I want you to go home tonight."

"Everyone in this room loved him, Sarah," Charlie said.

Dark eyes met Bass's for a minute. "I know. See you tomorrow."

They left the house and Charlie led him back across the yard to her home, to the swing on the back porch. "It's nice outside. Summer's definitely on the way. Do you want to sit for a while?"

"Sure." They dropped down onto the swing, and he rested his arm across the back of the seat. She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. While taken aback a bit by the affection, he certainly understood it. And appreciated it. Both sighed, a sense of peace settling over them.

Silence hovered around the house, crickets and wildlife the only sound for a few minutes. "This is about the time of year I first left Sylvania Estates."

"Because of me. Because of what I did." She tilted her head back to look up at him. "Charlie, I don't know if I've ever apologized for what happened. For the part I played in ruining your family. I'm not even sure how you can touch me. I mean, I understand why. I'm the last bit of Miles left to cling to."

The corners of her mouth turned up a bit, a small sad little smile. "Bass, I'm not the same kid I was when you walked away."

"I had to go."

"I know that. Losing Connor broke you."

He glanced up at the stars. "That's what happens when you put a second child into a grave. I never recovered from the first."

She reached up, her hand guiding his face back down to look at hers. "I do understand. Miles wanted you to stay. And maybe even I did a little. But we realized why you had to go. And part of the reason I'm so glad to have you here is Miles. You're right, you're all I have left of him. But it's not just that. You were a part of a time in my life that I'll never have again. That part of my life shaped me into the woman I've become. I miss it sometimes, the action, the adventure...the fight. But my life is here now."

"I thought about you. About both of you, all the time, every day." He swallowed, willing back the tears that were about to come again. "Hell, I wanted to come back the second I rode away from you. But I just couldn't."

"Did you ever find it?"

"Find what?"

"Another republic."

"I wasn't really looking for that." He chuckled. At her questioning look, he explained further. "After Connor, I was just so filled with rage, with anger and hate. I needed to kill...as many Patriots as I could. So I cut a bloody trail all the way down to South America."

"And did you find what you were looking for?" she asked.

"No. There is no salvation for some of us."

"I'm not so sure about that." She tucked her head back against his shoulder. "I used to wonder if you'd found it, found somewhere else you could lead an empire. And I always hoped you never did. I hoped you never became General Monroe again so that no one else ever had to kill you."

"Somehow, I'm still kicking around." He moved his arm across her chest, holding her snuggly against his side. "We're what's left, Charlie."

Her hands played with the hair on his forearm. "Did you ever find anyone, Bass?"

"There were women. But no...I never found anyone." He rested his chin on the top of her head, the scent of her hair filling his senses. "I think part of me was too haunted by shockingly blue eyes."

He felt rather than saw her smile. "Great line, smartass."

She turned in his arms to face him, their faces mere inches apart, foreheads pressed together. "Charlie."

Her lips were on his before he could blink, a soft gentle kiss that stole his breath. But both of their warrior natures took over and before long, the kiss turned rougher, a gnashing of teeth and tongues, a tribute to the world they'd lost so long ago. She squirmed up onto his lap, pressing down on him, his body responding to her touch. "Well, looks like everything still works, old man."

He couldn't say he'd never thought about it with Charlie. She'd always been beautiful, and he'd certainly had little fantasies about her back in the Willoughby years. But to be here with her, the reality was far better than anything his mind had ever made up. "Charlie, nothing has to happen here."

She smirked. "We've been beating around this bush for more than fifteen years. Something definitely has to happen here. I'm nearly forty, Bass. I know what I want. And incidentally, a part of me was haunted by stunningly blue eyes as well."

He nodded and kissed her again, their bodies as close as they could get on the porch swing. So she hadn't missed those looks he'd shot her way every once in a while. "I guess we both want something to happen."

"We do." Her eyes cleared for a moment. "But there's something I...there's something I have to give you first. Come on."

She crawled off his lap, reaching for his hand. As hard as he was, he put all romantic thoughts aside and followed her into her house. Motioning to the couch, she lit a few candles in her living room, then opened a drawer on a small desk in the corner. Crossing over to him, she handed him a letter, the envelope carefully addressed to him in Miles's bold script.

Their eyes stayed locked on one another as she sat on the couch beside him. "He wrote this for you when he knew...the end was coming. Made me swear I would track you down and give it to you."

His eyes filled with unshed tears. The son of a bitch was making him cry way more in death than he ever had in life. God, he missed his brother. "Thank you."

"I can give you a few minutes alone if you'd like."

"No." He grabbed her hand. "Stay with me, please."

She nodded as he unfolded the last letter Miles would ever write to him.

 _Dear Bass (pain-in-the-ass-prick),_

 _Well, it's finally happening. The end is finally here. Cancer, can you believe that shit? I always figured you'd go first, you bastard, considering all the stupid stunts you pulled over the years. But now...I find I'm glad you're still alive. Because I have a huge favor to ask._

 _I pulled a lot of crazyass shit over the years, some you were involved in, some not, but I never had as good a time as I did when we were on the same side. I never had a best friend like you, Bass, before or after you. I told you once we were brothers and that was never going to change. And it never did, not for me._

 _I'm sorry about what happened in the republic, for leaving you behind, for letting you take the blame for so much of it. A lot of that shit was on me too. And maybe if I'd handled it differently, maybe we wouldn't have lost all those years. Maybe we'd still be two old geysers running the Monroe Republic, but with a much better outcome. A lot less pain and destruction. I'm truly sorry I let you down, brother._

 _Which brings me to my favor. I know what I did to you, taking your son away from you. Now that I have kids of my own (Jesus, Charlie is mine, can you believe it?), I know exactly what I stole from you. I lost all that time with Charlie that I can never have back, and I know how much that hurts me. But I still have her in my life. I still got time with her. You didn't have it with Connor or your other child, and I'm so sorry for that. Which makes this favor so tough to ask for._

 _My son isn't even going to be a teenager before I have to abandon him here. I know his mother and Charlie will keep an eye on him, but he needs a man in his life, Bass. I'm asking you to be the one to look after my kid. I'd beg you if I could, brother, if I even knew where you were. I've asked Charlie to try and track you down. The girl's just dying for another adventure, and once I'm gone, she may need a little time out on the road. The two of you might be the only ones left who understand that._

 _If she does indeed find you, let her drag your sorry ass back to Wisconsin. Come on, Sebastian Monroe back in the Monroe Republic. It doesn't get any better than that. You can keep an eye on my son, tell him embarrassing stories that only you know, and help him learn to protect himself and the family I hope he someday has. What I'm asking, Bass, is help my son learn to be a man. He's still so young and there are lessons I haven't been able to teach him yet._

 _And come back for Charlie too. She misses you. I know she does. In the early years, she never would have admitted that, but after all the things I've told her about your life and past, things I wanted B.J. to know, I think any hatred or animosity she might have had towards you died long ago. And she'll mention you sometimes, and I know she hopes you are alright. As do I._

 _I'm praying this letter finds you, brother, and finds you well. I'm praying that you haven't already passed on, but if you have, I'll see you soon. I think I'll get to see them all again. Ben, Danny, Aaron and Priscilla, Rachel. I love Sarah with all my heart, but I never stopped loving Rachel either. Who knew?_

 _If you're reading this right now, then please protect and look after my family. They're your family too, Bass. They always were._

 _Love (yeah, don't make a big deal out of it, dick), your brother,_

 _Miles_

With tears streaming down his face, he turned to Charlie and found her face stained with tears as well. Letter clutched in hand, he pulled her to him, burying his head in her shoulder as they both wept for Miles one more time.

When he finally had a little control, he leaned his forehead against hers. "He asked me to..."

"I know. He made me read it. I know what he asked." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Will you stay with us, Bass?"

"I have nowhere else to go. You're all I have left in the world." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "And I'm too old to be alone anymore, Charlie."

"B.J. will be really happy to hear that."

"And you?"

She nuzzled his face with hers. "I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay with me. I forgave you years ago. And now I need you, Bass. I might even love you someday."

He smiled through the tears. "Well, then I have to stay for that. And I would be proud to look out for my brother's son."

She kissed him again, her lips offering him a promise of a future that even 6 hours before he hadn't believed in. A future he now felt he wanted more than anything.

* * *

The last time I saw Sebastian Monroe...was 20 minutes ago. When he promised me he'd get our 8 year old ready for bed. Since that only takes about 10 minutes, I figure there's some horseplay going on in the other room. Considering Bass is nearing 70, he still has a lot of stamina. Something that Miles greatly appreciates.

I'd told the same old story about the Patriot and Nano wars to B.J. as he was growing up. About how Bass Monroe left after the death of his son, Connor, and about how I'd never seen him again. But I forgot that life is always there to throw you a curveball. And one day, less than a week after Miles passed, Bass wandered back into my life. And just when I was planning on going to find him too.

Things were different when he came back. We fell in love quickly, which makes me wonder if that wasn't already happening before he left. That first night turned into many more, and we were parents within the year. There was never any discussion about our son's name. He was Miles from the moment he took his first breath. We've only ever had the one child. Bass is far too worried that at my age, there'd be complications. He's not wrong and knowing his past, I understand it. And we're happy with the family we have. We're both just glad he was finally able to see one of his children grow up.

Despite the nearly 13 year age difference, Sebastian Matheson and Miles Monroe are nearly inseparable. B.J.'s 19 now, hard to believe, and he's everything his father always hoped he would be. A good man, with a kind heart. His mother and I are so proud of him, but his surrogate daddy is bursting with pride.

B.J. fell for Bass almost as hard as I did. And he struggled with that at first. Feeling like he was letting someone else take Miles's place in his life. I told him that Miles Matheson was my father, even before I knew he really was. And that I still loved Ben, but that I loved Miles as well. It made it easier for my little brother to realize he could love Bass and still love his father too.

Bass is an old man only in number. He still fights, trains with B.J. and Miles, and is still one hell of a lover. No complaints from someone reaching their fifties pretty soon. And damn him if he isn't still a good-looking man. When we go into town, younger women still give him a look. But he only has eyes for me. Which is lucky for him. I still find a bit of that young fighter version of myself when other women ogle my man. Turns out I'm as possessive as he is. Guess we really are stuck with one another. Good thing I love him with all of my heart.

I think of my family, the ones I've lost, every now and again. We visit Miles's grave all the time, simply because it's right here. I miss him most of all. I wish he'd been around to meet our son. I think he would have been proud of both me and Bass. I know he would have been cocky as hell about the name. I think that Miles is right. Someday, I will see them all again. They are my family and family never really dies. Maybe there's a Willoughby up in heaven, a good and safe Willoughby, and we'll all meet there in the afterlife. Even the agnostic Jew from Wisconsin.

I made Bass promise me he would stay with me as long as he could. I told him to go for the long haul. At only 70, I think he could go for another twenty years or so. I need him to. I don't know what I'm going to do when I finally lose him. Maybe someday we'll have grandkids, and I want him to see them. I hope B.J. and Miles both get married and have children, and I hope the Monroe and Matheson names are forever entwined.

Ah, Bass is finally here, which means some little holy terror finally fell asleep for the night. Now it's my turn with Bass, where he'll hold me and tell me that I'm being too melancholy and that he still has a lot of mileage left in him. I hope to God that's true.

\- _From the diary of Charlotte Monroe_

End

* * *

A/N: In my mind, this is what's on Bass's grave. Charlie had him for a long time.

 _Sebastian Monroe_

 _Born: 1984_

 _Died: 2084_


End file.
